


Fuck

by cmshaw



Category: due South
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-12-26
Updated: 2001-12-26
Packaged: 2017-10-05 07:20:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cmshaw/pseuds/cmshaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yeah right, and you can suck my dick while you're at it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fuck

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thermidor](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=thermidor).



Kowalski leaned forward and put his empty beer bottle on the coffee table. "You know what?" he said.

Vecchio swallowed the last of his own beer. "What?" he asked.

"Fuck this, that's what," Kowalski said, and he kicked the coffee table sideways as he stood up from the couch.

"What?" Vecchio said again. Dammit, he could have sworn that they were finally starting to get along, but now Kowalski was advancing on him and shit, shit, he shouldn't've had that beer because he was stuck in this damn chair --

\-- and Kowalski was on him, pinning him down, kneeling at his feet and leaning most of his weight on Vecchio's lap. "Let's just fucking do this, just get it done, okay?" he said, and just like that he had Vecchio's pants open and Vecchio's dick in his fist. "Mmm," Kowalski said, and then he had Vecchio's dick in his mouth.

"Fuck," Vecchio said. When Kowalski said _Let's do this_, he hadn't believed that Kowalski meant do _this_. Because this was, this was -- fuck, this was not the sort of thing Vecchio _did_. Except that he obviously did, because there he was with his dick in Kowalski's mouth. Except that maybe he didn't after all, because, sure, he'd said _Yeah right, and you can suck my dick while you're at it_, he'd said that a couple of times, but he hadn't meant _really_; that would have meant thinking about Kowalski's tongue and the way it was sliding up underneath his cock, and about Kowalski's lips and how they looked wrapped around his cock, and about the tiny little moans Kowalski was making with his head down there between Vecchio's legs.

And _fuck_, if he'd been thinking about that he would have had a hard-on all evening instead of just since the third beer, which was when Kowalski had slid so provocatively down on the sofa cushions. So this had to be Kowalski's idea, Kowalski who wanted this so fucking badly, and not Vecchio's fault at all that he grabbed the back of Kowalski's head and shoved himself in. Kowalski moaned while Vecchio forced his hips upward until his dick was buried deep in Kowalski's throat. He nuzzled the base of Vecchio's cock with his lips, wriggling and pushing to impale his mouth further, and Vecchio wrapped his legs around Kowalski's chest and tipped back in the chair.

Kowalski swallowed around Vecchio's cock, and Vecchio tightened his legs. Christ, yes, fuck it, fuck whatever stood in the way of Vecchio's hands digging into Kowalski's scalp and Vecchio's zipper digging into Kowalski's chin. Vecchio came down Kowalski's throat with a surprized sort of grunt, light-headed and shaking.

Kowalski pushed Vecchio's legs apart and pulled back; Vecchio's dick slid wetly out of his throat. Vecchio tried to stroke his shoulders and managed a shaky sort of patting. Kowalski gave a little cough and breathed deeply a few times. He pushed himself back from where he was lying across Vecchio's legs and wiped the saliva and come off his chin with the back of one hand. "God," he said hoarsely, and shuddered against Vecchio's knees, "did you know how much I like getting my mouth fucked, or was that a lucky guess?"

"Lucky guess," said Vecchio, who felt like _lucky_ was probably his middle name right then. He licked his lips. "You can hold your breath for a hell of a long time," he said, wondering when his head was going to stop spinning.

Kowalski laughed a little breathlessly. "I cheat at poker," he said.

"Do I even want to know what that means?" Vecchio asked.

"I don't know," Kowalski said, looking up at him. "Do you?"

There was enough confusion in Kowalski's voice that Vecchio tucked himself back into his shorts, zipped up, and with an effort sat up. Kowalski was kneeling between his feet, one shaky hand clutching at Vecchio's thigh and the other between his own legs jerking at his cock. His eyes were wide and dark and couldn't seem to quite focus on Vecchio's face.

And -- fuck it. If this was the sort of thing Kowalski did, then by God Vecchio could do it too. He slid off the chair and landed on his knees next to Kowalski. He let one hand run down Kowalski's stomach to the open fly of his jeans and Kowalski lifted his own hand away. Kowalski leaned back on both hands and Vecchio's hand closed tight around the base of his cock, hot and thick and tangled in blond curls. Vecchio bent down and closed his lips around the purpled head of Kowalski's dick, and Kowalski made the most beautiful sound Vecchio had ever heard in his life.

Kowalski twisted sideways to get his legs out in front of him, and Vecchio pulled his mouth back, then lowered it around Kowalski's cock again. He closed his mouth around the first few inches and sucked as hard as he could, and Kowalski made that sound again, this time in a slightly higher register. Vecchio worked his hand up and down between Kowalski's fly and his own mouth.

"I'm going to come," Kowalski said clearly, and then he moaned, starting low and shuddering his way up to that perfect sound again. Vecchio sucked again, and come flooded his mouth. He couldn't swallow -- fuck, he couldn't figure out how to swallow without biting Kowalski, and it was filling up his mouth and spilling down his chin and choking him. He pulled his mouth away and swallowed frantically, swept his tongue across his lips and swallowed again to clear his mouth, then covered the head of Kowalski's cock in time to suck in the rest of it.

God, this was messy. He was getting it everywhere: all over his face, his fist, Kowalski's stomach, _fuck!_ All over Kowalski's clothes, too. He let the tip of Kowalski's dick slip out of his mouth and fall limply across his fingers. He sighed. So much for being as good as Kowalski at this.

Kowalski's arms slid out from where they were braced underneath him, and Kowalski lay flat on his back on the floor, laughing. Vecchio let go of Kowalski's dick and wiped his hand on Kowalski's jeans, since they were already come-covered. "Hey," he said, "why the fuck didn't you just say _I don't want to work with you_?"

Kowalski squinted up at him. "What?"

"We can't work together if we're fucking," Vecchio said.

"Hey," Kowalski said, and rolled up onto one elbow. "I could use more fucking and less working in my life, you know?"

God. Put like that, it sounded really good. "Yeah," he said. "You know what?"

Kowalski's smile widened and his eyes darkened. "What?"

"Fuck it," Vecchio said. He pulled Kowalski up by the shoulders until he was close enough to kiss, and then he kissed him.


End file.
